


Apple Scent

by asparagus_season (Sirius_1910)



Category: The Binding - Bridget Collins
Genre: Apples, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Post-Canon, Prompt Fill, Short One Shot, Spring, for making Lucian a sap, it's what they deserve, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28791576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirius_1910/pseuds/asparagus_season
Summary: A glimpse at Lucian and Emmett's life after running away. They settle down. They live together and pick up fruits.Farmer AU unlocked.
Relationships: Lucian Darnay/Emmett Farmer
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Apple Scent

Spring. Blissful afternoon slipped away while the faint wind sang, and the clouds settled on a bright blue sky. A farmhouse loomed in the distance, cosy and inviting, probably heating as an oven at the time. Birds chirped from their resting places among the trees and tuned melodies which resounded around the vast prairie, distant cheeps responding.

Lucian rearranged his straw hat—Emmett’s hat—as a gust of wind blew by and made it drop to cover his vision. What a lovely sight it had been. More than that, it was the overall warmth and scent of spring and leaves and fruits making the afternoon particularly pleasant. Home. This was how belonging to some place should have felt.

He gently closed the book he was holding; after all, reading had already proved futile for the last half hour. It was a novel, one of the fake ones not pulled out of the memories of someone, picked up along the way in their travels. It had called Lucian's attention, for the cover resembled that of the book his father had given him and he had read until it was seared into his brain word by word. Lucian wondered whether he could recreate and write that story from memory alone. Then again, writing was Emmett's job. Looking up from where he sat on the grass beside the wide tree, he saw sunlight flaring and seeping through the branches. The reds and yellows and greens mixed and glimmered in its light. The shadows fell dancing on his figure. Insects buzzed above.

_Apples_ , he thought. _I should pick some apples._

It had been long since they had last baked a comfort pie. Emmett would be thrilled.

With this goal set in mind, Lucian promptly got up, dusting off his hands on his pants, and walked to the wooden storage cabin where they kept tools, equipment and trinkets. Setting the book and his hat aside on a worktable to recover later, Lucian grabbed a stool and a basket, then journeyed back outside under the heating sun.

There were four apple trees in total; alongside many other fully grown trees and the petite ones he and Emmett had only just planted. Lucian headed straight towards the tree that had been providing cool shadow for him during his lazy afternoon, placing the stool right beneath a branch overflowing with the red fruit.

One of the chores Lucian loved most was picking fruits. Not only for the thrill and happiness that came with knowing _their_ trees were delivering such marvellous produce, but for the blasé confident way in which Emmett Farmer refused to use a ladder and climbed barefooted onto the trees, disappearing swiftly amid the leaves. If Lucian peeked and followed the other boy’s exposed ankles, it was only a mere natural reaction in case he suddenly fell, of course. Then again, Emmett would always come back down after a few moments to hand him his gathered items with the brightest smile on his freckled face.

That, Lucian looked forward to every time.

There was that one time when Emmett had convinced him to follow him up into the tree, patiently explaining where to hold on to and where to place his shaking feet. Emmett made every motion appear so simple, yet Lucian discovered it required the outmost care and focus. _Don’t step or hold on to thin branches. No sudden movements._ Stop _grumbling and complaining, Lucian._ He hadn’t climbed higher than a third branch when he gallantly decided to leave the monkeying to Emmett. The ground had never felt that appealing.

Trees are living things; one has to be caring and thankful with them. Lucian’s begrudging would have been no good.

Presently concluding that some ten apples were more than enough for the intended pie and to leave for later, Lucian stepped off his high place and carried everything back to the cabin to retrieve what he had left behind.

This cottage house by the countryside had been one of their luckiest breaks. After burning the library where Lucian’s book had been stored and running away from their hometown, several weeks passed without much progress. Not having a fixed destination and aimlessly travelling was beyond tiring. However, they arrived at certain village where they were told an old man was selling his long-time residence, not having children to pass it on to. It was a perfectly timed opportunity.

The building turned out to be decaying in some places, though nothing far from fixing. Even more miraculously, the old man even charged them nought for he knew he was dying and had no use for the money. Just as so, the house was theirs.

_Theirs._ Emmett and Lucian’s. What a most wonderful concept.

The door creaked when Lucian pushed it open with his foot, his hands busy juggling the apple basket. Its familiar rusty smell and resounding floors welcomed him home; Emmett was nowhere to be seen—or heard. Settling the fruit in the kitchen, Lucian set out to search for the other boy, at once deciding to start with his studio room on the second floor.

Sure enough, there he was; Emmett Farmer in all his glory. The door had been left open so as to not tramp in the heat, but still Emmett sported a single thin shirt and had cuffed his pants near the knee. His back to Lucian, he did not hear him approach or felt his watchful gaze. Light flooded through the window in front of him onto his bureau and whatever he was working on, as well as striking his golden hair and colouring his ears pink.

Slowly, painstakingly gentle, Lucian leaned forward to attempt see what Emmett was so engrossed in doing. He dared not breathe. A flick of a fountain pen, inked fingers, the edge of a white paper sheet—

_What. Was he writing?_

A particularly loud floorboard screamed under Lucian’s added weight. Emmett started and roughly closed the book he had been working on, jumping from his chair and abruptly turning around. He stayed effectively blocking Lucian’s view from the top of the bureau, his eyes never leaving the other’s frowning face mere inches away. Nevertheless, he was breathing curtly, and his lips were pressed tight.

‘What are you doing?’ Lucian asked, despite knowing the overall answer.

‘Nothing,’ Emmett shook his head, continuing, ‘Just annotating.’

‘That’s a book.’

‘Annotating can be done anywhere, Darnay.’

Lucian huffed. ‘I meant, it looked fairly long to be mere notes.’

‘You—’ Emmett sighed, raking a hand through his hair. The ring Lucian had given him shone stark against his skin. ‘They are… annotations of our lives, more or less. I cannot bind myself, so it is safe to do this.’

Lucian reached out and took that hand in his, relishing in the fact that he could do this. He could listen to his heart and touch Emmett, admire him, kissing the ring he had lost once already. ‘I will never forget them again.’

‘I know that. But,’ Emmett paused; closed his eyes. ‘Just in case, just as reassurance.’

Lucian hummed in resigned acceptance. Emmett slowly turned back to his book, releasing his hand to trace the intricate shapes in the cover. Looping graceful lines from the corners mimicked the interlacing of tree branches, small round flowers blooming at the edges. Noting his faraway lost look, Lucian brought his lips to Emmett’s warm cheek. The latter let out a small, weak chuckle.

Distraction secured. ‘I brought apples. Bake a pie with me?’

Emmett beamed at him, daisies adorning the corners of his pretty lips, and nodded. He tenderly placed the book in one of the bureau drawers and then trailed behind Lucian downstairs, their hands linked all the way. The kitchen was one of the few places the house preserved intact; the counters stored years and years on them, and each door, cabinet and drawer needed a special tick for opening. Emmett and Lucian knew all of them by heart now, a routine so comfortably homey it made Lucian’s heart swell.

While Emmett started pealing and preparing the apples, Lucian busied himself gathering the ingredients and necessary molds for the pie crust. The light outside was dimming, tinting the scenery with the colours of dusk and finally bringing the temperature down, if only just a touch. Wind kept caressing the highest leaves and the grass below, carrying the minute treasures it picked up from far away lands. During their journey, the boys had been led by such wind as well. It was their only constant, aside from the company of each other.

Lucian sighed, content, and came to stand behind Emmett for once more in the day. This time though, he made his presence deliberately known by embracing Emmett at his stomach, lacing his hands on his chest and burying his head on the crook of Emmett’s neck.

‘Are you not going to help me peel?’ Emmett said. Lucian could imagine his narrowed eyes.

He shook his head stubbornly against Emmett’s shoulder, messing up his hair and ending up with half of it covering his face. When Emmett made a noise of half-hearted disapproval, it vibrated and travelled all the way from Lucian’s top to the tips of his toes. He breathed deeply.

Emmett smelt of apples.

The whole house smelt of apples.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this was,,so short,,,, first time writing for these boys and all, bear with me.  
> Also, the pie was very good (unlike this thing)  
> Kudos and love very much appreciated <3 thanks for reading!!


End file.
